


scrambled

by Thatbookishgirl



Series: older men care for wounded birds [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anal Play, Boys Kissing, Feelings, Fluff, Head Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Sleepy Cuddles, Smut, Sugar Baby Jaskier | Dandelion, Sugar Daddy Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Temporary Amnesia, how is that not a tag?, thigh kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 05:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatbookishgirl/pseuds/Thatbookishgirl
Summary: Jaskier, recovering after a head injury, no longer remembers Geralt or anything of their relationship. Geralt tries to help him heal while minding his many feelings.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: older men care for wounded birds [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2065776
Comments: 5
Kudos: 157





	scrambled

Jaskier woke up slowly. He blinked wearily at the ceiling above him; a soft white paint, lights turned off with only a faint amount of sun coming through the window where the blinds were drawn. He realized startlingly that he was not in a space he recognized. His head ached fiercely and his body felt weighted. His skin was sensitive to the sheets draped over his body. He tuned into the sounds around him, a steady hum and rhythmic beeping. Everything smelled faintly of disinfectant. He opened his mouth to speak and found his throat felt like he had been gargling broken glass. No sound came out but a dry groan. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his heart as the fear and anxiety spread across his chest. He did not know how he found himself like this but he was scared. 

He had not been in a hospital in some time but they all looked the same. He searched with desperation to remember anything to clue him into why he was here, where he was, what day it was. He lifted his hand to see bloody knuckles, swollen and purple. He flexed and bent his fingers and was relieved to find nothing seemed broken. At least he could still play his guitar. He lifted his legs with great effort, they felt like they were made of lead. Jaskier licked his lips and kept searching his memory for anything and found nothing. The last thing he could remember was going to meet his friend Aiden near his job. They were going to get coffee and he had a gig that night. But everything else is blank. Did he get into an accident on the way to the bar? 

Before he could think much longer a nurse popped into the room, her face bright and eyes soft. She looked warm and inviting in this bleak space.

“Oh good. We knew you’d be waking up soon,” she walked over and looked into his eyes before looking over his vitals.

“What happened?” he croaked. She gave a tight smile and reached for a cup to pour him some water. He attempted to smile as she handed it to him. It was heaven going down his throat. 

“Well, you had a bit of a tumble,” she chuckled, “You were on a hike and ended up slipping and falling quite a bit down a rock face. You didn’t fall terribly far, thankfully, but did suffer quite the head trauma.”

“I would never hike,” he frowned in response.

She laughed quietly and shook her head, “Yea, that’s what they said when you were brought it.”

“They?” Jaskier began before he was startled by a sound by the entrance to his room.

The door flew open and the most beautiful man Jaskier had ever seen walked in. He had long, gorgeous hair that looked silver. He seemed impossibly tall and his presence filled the entire room.

“I told you he’d wake up as soon as you took a break,” the nurse remarked and handed the water pitcher to the lovely man who appeared to look at Jaskier as if he was the most important person in the world. 

“I wouldn’t have missed it if you didn’t kick me out,” the man grunted.

“You needed a nap. And a shower,” the nurse snarked.

“Is he - can he - how is he?” the man stammered and took a seat next to Jaskier’s bed.

“He’s awake. The neurologist will need to run more scans and we’ll need to get a sense of what’s going on upstairs. I’ll let him know Jaskier is awake so we can get everything ready.”

“Hold on,” Jaskier interrupted, “Why are you telling him this?” He furrowed his brow and looked over to this man who blinked at Jaskier with confusion.

“Are you a doctor? Who are you?” Jaskier pressed. 

The man’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared. He looked to the nurse with panic before back to Jaskier. The nurse also looked shocked. She paused and pressed a button on the wall.

“I’m your husband,” the man replied, softly.

“Husband?” Jaskier gawped. He couldn’t believe he was married let alone to someone who looked like that.

“You don’t remember…” the man trailed off. 

“We anticipated he might have memory loss,” the nurse cut in.

“Forgetting me means he lost several years,” the man took in a deep breath and his body went rigid. 

“What’s your name?” Jaskier looked at him.

“Geralt,” he released and sank back into his chair.

“Geralt,” Jaskier felt the word in his mouth. It felt right. It rolled off his tongue like he said it all the time, “I like it.”

Geralt snorted and leaned forward on his elbows, sighing and holding his head in his hands. 

“The doctor is on his way,” said the nurse.

“Thank you, Laura,” Geralt spoke, basically to the floor.

“For what it’s worth, if this is amnesia caused by his head trauma, it is likely to be temporary. It usually is,” she explained.

“I fucking hope so,” the man mumbled.

The nurse, Laura, left the room and they waited. Jaskier kept staring at Geralt, his  _ husband _ , and his mind filled with questions. Questions that felt more pressing than how he even ended up in a hospital.

“Is my face still pretty?” Jaskier half-joked, though he did have a legitimate concern.

Geralt looked up at him and smiled, suddenly Jaskier’s favorite thing in the world. He laughed slightly and reached forward to cup Jaskier’s chin, thumb pressing lightly at the man’s lower lip. “You’re a bit bruised, but still lovely.” It was then Jaskier realized that Geralt’s eyes were a bit golden.

The neurologist and another doctor came and went. Jaskier had scans and MRIs, each time he returned to the room Geralt was waiting with an expression like a kicked puppy. Everyone concluded he had retrograde amnesia, but he was cleared of any traumatic brain injury, which was its own miracle. He had been in the hospital for about a week before waking, steadily unconscious the entire time. They all told him and Geralt, **_his husband_ ** , that the amnesia would be temporary but there was no timeline on when his memories would come back. It was uncommon for it to last very long but it was also uncommon for him to lose the level of memory he did. By all accounts, it appeared that Jaskier lost approximately 5 years of memories. He had no other significant injuries and would be cleared to return home. He wanted to leave the hospital desperately but Geralt looked uneasy.

“Is there anything I need to be worried about or avoid? He doesn’t know me. I’m a stranger to him,” Geralt asked, voice laced with concern.

“Obviously no strenuous activity. I would expect a lot of anxiety from both of you. He will struggle with some things but will be able to care for himself just fine. Psychologically, I’d be more concerned, given his history. Just give lots of space and have a lot of patience. Both of you,” the doctor explained. Jaskier sat and listened somewhat distracted as he considered what was to happen after he left this hospital room. His husband, **h u s b a n d** , would take them to their home and he was supposed to slowly acclimate until he remembered everything. They did warn there might still be blank spots and he wasn’t sure he wanted to forget anything that involved this strange and lovely man. This man he apparently married and built a life with. A man he would go hiking for.

Geralt got him to the car and they began their journey home. He was on edge, as Geralt seemed to be as well if the way he gripped the steering wheel was anything to go by. He chewed on his lip and fiddled with his fingers. The scenery they passed at least looked familiar. They were in a city he knew and had spent a lot of time in. Things did not look particularly different, though, cityscapes tended not to change drastically in 5 years outside of some natural disaster. He watched familiar parks go by as they turned towards downtown. Everything grew more opulent the closer they got to the center of the city. Buildings grew taller, store fronts more ‘artisanal’ and obscenely overpriced. Geralt turned down a one way street that brought them to the parking deck attached to one of the largest and most expensive buildings in, probably, the entire state. They pulled in and Geralt parked them into a space labeled with their names. A personal space. In the largest and most expensive building in the city.

“What the fuck?” Jaskier whispered. 

“That’s what you said the first time I brought you here too,” the man chuckled.

“Sorry, it's just - my last memory was when I was barely 19 and basically living in a cardboard box with 3 other people. Somehow, in 5 years, I’m in a fucking skyrise. With a  _ husband _ ,” he guffawed. 

“A lot can change in a small amount of time,” Geralt sighed, his arm reaching out before pulling in back to his side, fingers clenching on his knee.

“Hold on...wait,” Jaskier puzzled something, “If I’m only just 25, do I have a fancy job to pay for this or is this building all you?”

“We should go upstairs. I think. Best to review some things inside,” he suggested. Jaskier nodded and just let himself be led to the private elevator. The inside was simply mirrors floor to ceiling, the ceiling also being a mirror. He wondered, briefly, if he ever took advantage of all the mirrors in this space with his ungodly attractive husband. **_H U S B A N D_ ** . He looked at Geralt and could imagine himself getting up to very amorous activities. He wanted to see if he could see himself getting off from all angels. He wondered if Geralt growled when he came. He looked a bit like he did. Jaskier looked up and realized he was blushing furiously. He coughed and tried to calm himself and try not to molest Geralt with his imagination.

“You think about that every time we’re in this elevator,” Geralt smirked, looking incredibly cocky while doing so.

“You know what I’m thinking, do you?” Jaskier pressed his lips together.

“Believe it or not, you announce what sexually depraved things you can imagine up most of the time. We’ve talked about your desire to fuck in this elevator plenty of times,” Geralt glanced up to the ceiling and seemed to be recalling every conversation.

When the doors opened up, on the 30th floor, he found them walking into a gorgeous penthouse after Geralt used his finger print to unlock the front door. The windows were large and overlooked the river, a beautiful view. The space was awash in warm greys, blues, and indoor plants everywhere. Everything smelled of bergamot and citrus, a scent that triggered this wave of deja vu. He suddenly felt relief and warmth and love. He looked at Geralt and saw him smirking slightly.

“I accidentally spilled some of your lotion on the couch. The whole place smells of it now,” Geralt shrugged. Jaskier stepped further into their home and continued to be amazed by the space. He went from a shitty house in a small town in New York, to a series of shelters and shitty apartments, to here. He wished he could remember anything that brought him to this moment.

“I want to believe that we live here because I’m a famous musician, but I feel like that’s not true,” Jaskier went and sat down on the couch. It was as soft as he expected it to be. He rolled to his side and tried to burrow into the pillows and cushions. 

“Sadly, no. Though you do perform a lot,” Geralt sat in the armchair near the fireplace, “You have a gig tomorrow you obviously won’t be performing in. I already alerted the venue. They understand, thankfully. They do want you back though.” 

“Well, at least there’s that…,” Jaskier hummed to himself and starred at Geralt, “so you married me?”

“I did,” he smiled.

“But you look like you and I look like me? Like, I’m adorable but you could easily pull much higher up on the gorgeous food chain,” the brunette pointed as he cradled a pillow to his chest.

“Well, I don’t miss that. The insecurity. Though, it was short-lived at the start of our relationship,” Geralt breathed, “And I think you’re perfect. Very cute.”

“I’m going to get you to compliment me constantly. It will help me heal,” he snickered.

“I’ll do so gladly,” he relaxed, “You should definitely learn more about our relationship.”

“Of course I should. I would never go hiking unless you have a godly cock. Not sure why else I’d agree to it,” Jaskier narrowed his eyes.

“To be fair, my cock was involved in my effort to convince you,” Geralt arched a brow and Jaskier grinned.

“Excellent. However, as much as I want to know about that, I should probably figure out how we met. Tell me everything of our courtship,” Jaskier snuggled deeper into the cushions.

“Well, um...I - uh. So, I was your boss,” Geralt winced slightly, he always does whenever anyone points out that Jaskier used to work for him. 

“My boss?” Jaskier smirked, “Interesting. I don’t remember having a job. Are you older than me?”

“I am more than a decade older than you,” Geralt pursed his lips, knowing Jaskier was going to latch onto that bit of information and launch into varying jokes about the age difference while peppering in the word ‘daddy’ just for effect.

“Holy shit. Are you - am I sugar baby or something?” he half-joked and half-hoped.

“I have never called you that. You and Yennifer call you that all the time, though,” he rolled his eyes, recalling when they both chanted it together after too much wine as Geralt starred them both down. 

“I certainly like the sound of a much older man to shower me with gifts. Assuming you love me, which I imagine you must, given we’re married. Which I am still trying to wrap my head around, by the way,” Jaskier turned to look out the window, then back to his husband.

“I love you very much. More than I could probably say,” the man softened, his eyes full of love. 

“I am just amazed. I mean, who knew,” he giggled, “I probably love you too.”

“You do,” Geralt smiled.

“So, did I meet you at work? What was my job exactly? Is it still my job?” he asked.

“You do not still work there, no. You, at the time, were a daycare worker for my company. We met by accident. You were running down the hallway and I spilled my hot coffee on you,” the older man recalled.

“Your company?” Jaskier sought.

“Uh. Kaer Morhen,” he gave.

“I’m sorry? Fucking, what? Kaer Morhen? You own Kaer Morhen? That company is worth millions!” Jaskier was now sitting straight up. The grandiosity of the penthouse now made sense. 

“Yes. I own Kaer Morhen, along with Yennifer, my CFO,” Geralt answered. He knew more questions were coming. Even when Jaskier knew all this information he had many questions about everything Geralt did when they began dating.

“That’s just astound - “ before Jaskier could finish his sentence the front door opened and a young woman came barreling in, her hair a stark white with purple streaks, and another woman behind her. The girl was crying and nearly flung herself next to Jaskier while still giving him space. 

“Ciri, I told you to wait. He’s in a bit of a state,” Geralt said quietly.

“She wouldn’t listen and was going to come here one way or another,” the other woman said as she glided into the room. She cocked her head to the side and gave Jaskier a searching look.

“Are you ok, Jask?” the younger girl, Ciri, sobbed.

“I am. Yes,” Jaskier eyed her nervously. She looked like Geralt, they were clearly related.

“Ciri. He’s fine. I told you he would be. But I also told you his memory is jarred and he needs time. Sweetheart, he’s ok,” Geralt got up and joined them on the couch. He kissed Ciri on the forehead and she sniffled. 

“Neither of them left your bedside the entire time you were in hospital. It was only after some needling that Geralt and Ciri went to wash up. Of course that’s when you wake up,” the other explained, “I’m Yennifer, by the way. They say you don’t remember us.”

“I don’t. Sorry to say,” Jaskier frowned. He looked over to Ciri to see her tear-stricken face, “I will be alright.”

“I don’t know how to talk to you now. You’re my dad and you don’t know me,” she sniffled.

“Your dad? I am _ far _ too young to have been a part of your conception,” Jaskier gasped.

“You adopted her when she was 16, just after we got married,” Geralt answered.

“Oh. I imagine there’s a mother…” Jaskier thought, trailing off.

“You could say that,” Yennifer snorted, “She stopped coming around after Geralt proposed to you. I think she realized there was nothing else she could get out of him and turned tail. Though, you’ll remember that with time.” 

“I have a husband and a daughter. I just. Holy shit,” Jaskier sort of sank deeper into the couch. He wasn’t upset by the information, but he was aghast. 

“Last he remembers he was 19. He hadn’t even started working for us yet,” Geralt reminded Ciri, “You’ll need to give him some time.”

“I know,” she took a choppy breath.

“Tell me a bit about you. What would make you feel better right now?” Jaskier sought.

“Normally,” she swallowed, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, “You would braid my hair and tell me a story about when you were young. Or we’d watch our favorite movie.”

“What’s our favorite movie?” Jaskier asked, already reaching out to stroke her hair.

“Howl’s Moving Castle,” she smiled, “we watch it and dad makes us bacon and eggs. His hair looks a bit like Howl’s.” She began to laugh and Jaskier’s mind was filled with images of watching the movie on rainy days, the entire living room engulfed in soft light as they bundled on the floor in blankets. 

“That sounds rather lovely, actually,” Jaskier smiled.

“Dad?” Ciri looked at him, not sure why she still sought his approval. 

“Of course,” he hummed and began to find what they needed to set up a film. 

“I have a better idea,” Yennifer interrupted, “we should watch the proposal video.”

“We should!” Ciri gasped with a smile. 

“Our proposal was filmed?” Jaskier looked over Ciri’s head to Geralt.

“Not on purpose,” he narrowed his eyes in Yennifer’s direction.

“I filmed it. Mostly because I wanted to see how much Geralt fucked it up,” Yen grinned, “He didn’t do as badly as Eskel thought he would.”

“You were very romantic, dad,” Ciri nodded.

“I have to see,” Jaskier hugged the pillow tighter. Geralt just let out a long sigh and picked up the remote. He clicked around until he found a file that was simply labeled ‘Love.’ Geralt smiled at it wistfully but remained on the other side of the room.

_ “Why on earth are you going to film this, Yen?” Lambert whispered harshly. _

_ “We both know Gerlt will find a way to screw up a simple question. I’ll be surprised if he doesn’t accidentally ask Jaskier to move out,” _

_ “He’s never been good with conversation…,” Eskel muttered. _

_ “Is there a reason he wanted to do this in front of people?” Lambert asked. _

_ “I think it’s because he wants to illustrate to everyone that he is hopelessly in love with his sugar baby. It lets everyone know he is to be left alone and that so is Jaskier,” she laughed, off screen, “And Jaskier loves a spectacle.”  _

_ “I guess it's easier than growling at everyone,” Lambert sighed. _

_ “Less fun, though,” Eskel laughed.  _

_ “I love when he growled at the intern that hit on Jaskier during that weird fundraiser dinner. I thought the kid was going to wet himself,” Lambert recalled. _

_ “Didn’t he?” Yennifer cackled quietly. _

_ “Do we know when he plans to do it?” Eskel fidgeted with his silverware. They were at a yearly gala that celebrated the various accomplishments of the company and new ventures they were planning. For the most part, it was a boring affair the most of the employees used as an excuse to drink on the company dime - Geralt made sure all employees were paid when they attended company events even if they were ‘leisure.’  _

_ Geralt was slated to give a speech and, despite Yennifer’s suggestion that he not, decided to use it as the perfect opportunity to ask his boyfriend to marry him. Lambert was prepared for it to go poorly. They were all assured Jaskier would say yes. The man was hopelessly in love with Geralt, but he did love a good display now and again. He was already up, speaking on and on in a somewhat boring drone with graphs behind him looking at gains and projections - something those in the accounting department only really cared about. Jaskier was near the stage and clearly not paying attention. He was chatting up someone else at his table, about who knows what. Jaskier’s hands were moving animatedly, Geralt glancing at him every so often throughout his speech. Eventually, he seemed to wrap up and held space as people began to clap. Before stepping down, he held the mic and took a breath. _

_ “Before I let you all get back to the gala, I’d like to say one more thing. Jaskier Pankratz, would you join me on stage?” Geralt pressed his lips together. Jaskier, looking surprised at first, smiled and carefully climbed to stand next to him.  _

_ “I believe most know that I have been dating Jaskier for awhile. Yennifer felt the need to broadcast it,” Geralt rolled his eyes. There was some scattered laughing, some clearly recalling the occasion when Yennifer used the relationship as a way to embarrass Pavetta. _

_ “You didn’t like when people hit on me, what was she to do to make it stop,” Jaskier joked and the audience laughed more. _

_ “Well, I hope this makes it stop permanently?” Geralt cocked a brow and dropped to one knee. Jaskier’s jaw dropped and he was completely still. Geralt, to his credit, made many attempts to have words leave his mouth, but his mouth fell open and closed several times before he managed to say anything. _

_ “Are you ‘ “ _

_ “Jaskier, I - um - “ _

_ “I can’t believe - “ _

_ “I’m trying to ask you to marry me but - “ _

_ “You’re bad at it,” Jaskier giggled. _

_ “Yea, I am,” Geralt smirked, “Will you tell me your answer? This is starting to hurt my knee.” _

_ “Oh my god - of course, I will,” Jaskier reached down to grasp Geralt by the collar before pulling him up into a messy kiss. Everyone around them clapped, cooed, or otherwise celebrated the proposal they witnessed. Jaskier and Geralt smiled against each other’s lips and held each other as confetti and balloons began to come down from the ceiling. Apparently Yennifer had rightly assumed Jaskier would say yes.  _

_ “You can thank me later, Geralt,” Yennifer turned the camera towards herself, “You were way too nervous for this. As if your lark, lover of you and all things that are a spectacle and a half, would say ‘no’ to you.”  _

_ Lambert and Eskel smiled and laughed at the camera. It then panned over to Ciri, who was on the other side of Yennifer. Her eyes glistened and she gave a thumbs up to the camera.  _

The video came to a stop and Jaskier practically vaulted from the couch. He flew himself at Geralt and wrapped his arms around his neck. Geralt, moving quickly, held Jaskier by the waist and his eyes widened at the action. Jaskier beamed and gave Geralt the gentlest kiss on the lips. He felt the man melt beneath his fingers and he relaxed for the first time since Jaskier probably got hurt. 

“So, it’s real. This isn’t some strange kidnapping situation,” Jaskier giggled.

“Did you really think that?” Geralt arched a brow.

“Well, no. But have you seen you?” he laughed and went to kiss him again, “I get to do this whenever I want.”

“And you do,” Yennifer rolled her eyes. 

“A lot,” Ciri added.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Jaskier kissed Geralt again and it all felt like a dream. He wondered what their daily life was like, their wedding, how did Ciri take to him moving in, did his parents know? There were more questions still, that he knew would be answered with time. 

“Oh my god,” Jaskier gasped.

“What?” Geralt went rigid, worried something had gone horribly wrong.

“My breath is awful!” he clapped his hand over his mouth.

“You haven’t brushed in awhile. But I don’t care,” Geralt reassured.

“You need a bath too,” Yenn mentioned, not looking away from where she was examining her nails.

“Unacceptable,” Jaskier sighed, “Where is the bathroom, husband?”

“Ciri, we should go. Your fathers are going to be gross,” Yen sighed.

“I’ll just go to my room and listen to music like I normally do,” she shrugged as she rose from the couch with the blanket.

“Oh my god,” Jaskier whispered. 

“Then, I’m off. Triss is waiting and Eskel is probably annoying her by now and Vesemir is still out of town. I’ll call you all tomorrow,” she picked up her bag and waltzed from the penthouse, leaving the other 3 in the living room.

“You’ll be ok by yourself for a little while?” Geralt asked Ciri.

“Yes. I feel better knowing he’s here with us. I can see and touch him and he’s alive,” she gave a quiet smile and went to give Jaskier a soft hug before walking off down the hallway off the living room.

“I’ll probably be weird and freak out again later,” Jaskier hummed. Geralt smiled at him and pulled him a little closer.

“That’s ok. We’re at least here now. There are comforts and you can always take space away from me to collect yourself,” he reminded him.

“I suppose that’s true,” he relaxed again, “But, I’d love to clean up. I think I was so shocked by being married and having a daughter I failed to notice that I reek.”

“I think you smell nice,” Geralt chuckled but still guided him towards their bedroom. They had upgraded to a different penthouse 2 years ago to meet Jaskier’s demand of the largest bed they could find with floor to ceiling windows where he could luxuriate in the sun like the human cat that he was. Everything became more extravagant, but Jaskier, remarkably, remained very humble and made sure Geralt was funding charities all year round.

“Jesus christ,” Jaskier’s mouth dropped open as they entered the bedroom, “How big is our bed?”

“I believe it’s called an Alaskan King. You wanted to be able to spread out impossibly far. And roll around a bit,” Geralt recalled. When the bed was delivered he found Jaskier starfishing out on it before the delivery men were even out the door. 

“It looks marvelous and I look forward to sleeping in it, but I must bathe. Where are my clothes? I’d love to change into some pajamas afterwards,” he yawned, exhaustion, both physical and emotional, setting in.

“I’ll bring some in once you get settled in the bathroom,” Geralt nodded and placed his hand on the small of Jaskier’s back. He led him into the bathroom where Jaskier’s mouth fell open again. They had an immaculate bathroom with an aesthetic that screamed Jaskier. He imagined that Geralt must have let him take the reins when designing parts of their home. They had beautiful tile work and a gorgeous bath tub. This was opulent and more than Jaskier could have anticipated. He hoped they made good use of the bathtub. 

“I continue to be amazed,” Jaskier hovered in the doorway and looked around. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do. It’s not that he didn’t know how to bathe, but he felt like a stranger in the space. He imagined that he and Geralt generally moved around each other in the bathroom with ease. He cocked his head to the side and willed himself to remember what it was like. He envisioned lounging with Geralt in their tub, just being lazy and soaking until the water got cold. 

“What we normally do is that one of us takes a bath and the other hangs out with them on the lounge chair or in the bath with them. It depends on our mood. But, I understand that you might be uncomfortable, I can wait in the bedroom or do whatever you want,” Geralt explained. 

“I think I like the idea of you here. I might feel more comfortable with you watching me,” he blushed slightly, not knowing that he greatly preferred Geralt watching him. 

“I’d be happy to sit and talk with you while you get cleaned. I can tell you which soaps are yours and why you made me stop using the ones I used to use,” the older man smirked. He was hoping Jaskier would allow him that, he couldn’t imagine being apart from him for long, “Do you want me to step out while you undress?” He looked unsure.

“I don’t see why you would need to. I mean, I’m assuming you have seen every inch of me at this point,” the brunette shrugged. While he might not recall any of their intimacy, he bets that he has shown all to this man. He wants to a bit right now. He let Geralt start the tub, the hot water steaming and he added some epsom salt with a citrus scent. The room became instantly warmer. 

He faced the mirror and began to disrobe, but in doing so, realized how injured he was. He was still on a heavy dose of pain killers so the pain wasn’t hitting him. But he is seeing, now, all the bruises on his body. They were dark and angry, stretching across his chest and wrapping around his back. He looked pale and his hair was a mess. He swallowed and gently touched his wounds. He knows he fell and that bruises were likely, but he had not considered how many other injuries he might have outside of his head injury. He blinked back tears when everything sort of hit him at once. He was gravely injured, he almost died. He lost his memory.

Geralt stepped behind him and gently kissed his shoulder, an arm wrapping around his middle. He wanted to soothe Jaskier, knowing that might be impossible in this moment. Jaskier was fresh out of something incredibly traumatic, for as raw as Geralt was feeling, Jaskier must have felt utterly skewered. 

“You’ll be ok, sing bird,” Geralt whispered. The word _ song bird _ echoed in Jaskier’s mind like a soothing chime. It was a balm to his soul. He knew that Geralt must call him that when he was feeling low or vulnerable.

“I know,” he breathed, “It just feels like a movie right now, you know? Wake up with no memory of your life. It’s all very dramatic.”

“You like drama,” Geralt smiled against the man’s skin.

“Maybe not this kind,” he trailed his finger along a particularly vicious bruise across his rib cage.

“Let’s get you into the bath. You’ll feel better. I put your favorite stuff in there,” Geralt turned him around. Jaskier gave him a shy smile and pressed their foreheads together. He stepped back and let Geralt pull down his sweatpants. Geralt let him balance to step out, one leg at a time, he let hands lightly skim Jaskier’s body across his thighs and hip. Jaskier did blush once he was entirely bare before Geralt. He wondered what things were like the first time Geralt had seen him naked. He stepped into the tub and let his body relax into the water.

“How long was it until you saw me nude when we were dating?” Jaskier let his head rest on the lip of the tub.

“We - uh - weren’t dating yet the first time I saw you naked,” Geralt laughed a bit. Jaskier’s eyes shot open and he just stared at the ceiling. 

“That sounds like me. I bet I was a total slut,” he snorted.

“Good thing I like sluts,” Geralt sat on the edge of the lounge chair across from Jaskier.

“Was I good?” Jaskier twisted his face.

“We didn’t have sex right away. We did fool around, though. And you were fantastic,” Geralt eased. He watched Jaskier move his hands through the water and duck his head back to wet his hair.

“I hope I’ve only gotten better since I’ve had such a worldly gentleman to show me the way,” he laughed when he breeched the water again. 

“Brat,” Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Your brat,” Jaskier peered at him from the edge of the tub.

“Until I die,” Geralt leaned back and gazed at his young husband, trying to recover in his most favorite place that he could not remember. 

“I guess that’s still a bit of a foreign concept too. This idea that there is love that is mine to keep always,” Jaskier frowned. Geralt knew what he was remembering - the last fight with his dad having been more fresh in his current state. Geralt had spoken to Jaskier’s parents only once. They weren’t a part of their lives in any way. They made their choice and he knew that it hurt Jaskier deeply. It was a wound that would likely never entirely heal and Geralt could never imagine that sort of pain. He was raised by Vesemir, never really knowing his biological parents and not needing to. Vesemir was endlessly supportive. Ciri was one of the brightest spots in his life, he couldn’t think of anything that would make him not want her forever, especially if it was something she had no control over. 

“Hopefully, as you regain your memory, it would feel foreign anymore. You’ll just know explicitly that I love you endlessly,” Geralt stated with all the gravity that he could. Jaskier looked shocked before seeming to melt. 

“Help me wash my hair?” Jaskier bat his eyes. Geralt smiled as he came to kneel by the side of the tub. He pulled off his shirt and pulled his hair up into a knot on his head. He was happy to indulge Jaskier like this. Babying him is something that usually eased Geralt’s anxiety and Jaskier was happy to let him. But now, now this was for Jaskier. This was to soothe him and let him feel truly loved. 

The shampoo and conditioner smell of citrus and mint, the younger man’s favorite. Geralt massaged Jaskier’s scalp very gently. He knew it would be tender after the fall. He didn’t want to cause any pain. Jaskier moaned and let his eyes fall closed. Geralt’s hands were strong but his fingers were nimble. He had Jaskier sit forward and began to massage his neck and shoulders. He felt where the muscles were knotted and rigid from trauma and being confined to the hospital bed for several days. He liked having Jaskier’s body under his hands to be given pleasure and joy.

“This is wonderful,” Jaskier groaned.

“You’re tense,” Geralt observed.

“Good thing I have a strapping husband to help me,” Jaskier snickered. He let Geralt work for a few more minutes before asking to get out. He was plenty clean and relaxed, and he just wanted to lie down in their luxurious bed. 

Geralt practically carried him and set him on the bed. He found him a t-shirt and sleep pants. Geralt slipped on his own flannel pants as well. Jaskier crawled up to what he assumed was his side of the bed and let himself get cozy and settled. 

“This bed is made of a cloud,” he groaned and essentially made himself into a burrito.

“You were insistent on material,” Geralt recalled. He moved to put on a shirt before Jaskier stopped him, his cheeks aflame. 

“Do you want to lie in bed for awhile? Or even the rest of the night? It is after dinner. I can order some food. We can all watch a movie in here like we used to,” the elder suggested.

“I could eat so much, you have no idea,” Jaskier practically drooled.

“I have a bit of an idea you, giant garbage disposal,” Geralt remarked as he reached for his phone, “I’ll order some Chinese and get Ciri. You just get comfortable.” He gave Jaskier a peck on the forehead.

Jaskier did get comfortable. He bundled deep into the bed and propped himself up with multiple pillows. It had begun to rain, the floor to ceiling windows casting a grey tone to the room, pattern of raindrops across the room. It was probably the most comfortable Jaskier had ever been. Soon Ciri came into the room and crawled in the bed, letting herself sit in the middle. She was also in some pajamas, her hair in a messy bone atop her head. She just started talking about their rainy afternoon activities and being so glad she could indulger him the way he had always indulged her. She told him about the first time they had done this in the old place they lived. She had a bad day at school and came home early; hair drenched from the rainstorm. She cried into Jaskier’s lap and he coddled her with movies and junk food. It became a tradition.

By the time Geralt returned Ciri was settled in the bed and she had a movie prepped on the projector screen. He slid in on his side and was more than happy to do this again even if Ciri might seem too old to be having a movie day in bed with her parents. They were like that for hours. Chinese food having come and gone as they relaxed until Jaskier eventually fell asleep. Ciri had slipped from the bed at some point, leaving the men in silence. 

  
  


It was dark when Jaskier woke up entirely. He was relaxed and rested. The blankets and pillows were as soft as he remembered before falling asleep. The moonlight filled the room and he went to stretch before he felt an arm tighten around his waist and a huff to his neck. In their sleep Geralt had wrapped around him, face pressed into Jaskier’s hair. He felt warmth and love radiating in the bed and from Geralt. He wished, desperately he could remember this man, his husband, that so eagerly and without much question, pulled Jaskier into his life. Even at his best Jaskier felt like a human disaster, so this was a surprise. He shuffled backwards into Geralt’s body, enjoying the press of his body. He wondered if this was what it was like the first time they slept together. He could assume Geralt was possessive like this, not even letting him stray and inch. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Geralt’s voice rumbled behind him. Jaskier smiled and slowly turned over to face him. The golden eyes twinkling in the bare light of the room.

“I just wished I remembered this. You. It’s a little scary. But I feel like I can trust it,” the brunette sighed.

“It’ll come with time. I was very thorough with the neurologist. He reassured that you’ll get everything back,” Geralt soothed, his hand brushing Jaskier’s hair back.

“I know,” he breathed out, “I just worry it isn’t real. What if this is me in a coma still. Totally unreal. I’ll wake up still in a tiny apartment with you as my boss while I pine from afar, eating stale crackers for breakfast.”

“I promise this is real,” Geralt gave a small smile.

“Time will tell and I’ll enjoy this possible dream while I can,” Jaskier snickered.

“Ridiculous,” the older man pet Jaskier some more.

“You know,” Jaskier grinned as he moved a little closer, “I don’t remember the first time we slept together.”

“I see your libido goes unchecked,” Geralt laughed.

“I am still in my 20s. Are you saying you can’t keep up?” he teased.

“Oh, there is much you don’t know about my capabilities in bed,” Geralt gave a hard stare, “But you’re hurt.”

“But not dead. And very much wondering if we can simply recreate our first time,” he let his fingers dance down Geralt’s bare chest. 

“Our first time was not in a bed,” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, do tell,” Jaskier smiled and moved his head to rest on Geralt’s pillow.

“It was not a finer moment on my end. A bit spur of the moment. It was - uh - in the office,” he revealed.

“Oh. I have questions,” he beamed.

“I’m certain you do,” the older man let out a long sigh.

“But, right now, I’d rather you gave me lots of affection. Specifically involving your cock,” he moved to bring their hips together.

“As lovely as that sounds, you’re still injured,” he reminded him by tracing over the bruises gently with his fingertips.

“And I trust you can be gentle with me. Can’t I?” Jaskier pouted, half-hoping that would be enough to get what he wanted.

“Fucking menace,” Geralt grunted and carefully rolled them so Jaskier was beneath him, resting in the cradle of his thighs. 

“Your menace,” he gave a soft smile up at Geralt. He found his husband pressing kisses gently across his cheek bones and then lips, smiling into each one.

“You are. Why I chose you to be my menace forever is beyond me.” he breathed out and let himself put their chests together, feeling the younger man’s strong heart beat pressed against his skin. It felt like a beacon.

“I like the feel of you above me,” he smiled.

“And I like the feel of you beneath me. Especially since I’ll be controlling exactly how much I give you even though you are a greedy thing who always wants more,” the elder recalled.

“I’ll be good,” he blinked up at him. Geralt simply hummed and nosed along Jaskier’s jaw. He left of trail of kisses until he reached his collar bone. He moved lower still, pausing over his heart again, taking solace that it is as strong as ever. 

“You will. You’ll be a good boy and let me do this why way,” he warned and mouthed down his sternum.

“Oh,” Jaskier moaned, “I liked that a lot. Do you call me that often?” Jaskier whispered, curious about the feelings building up in him. He wondered exactly how many kinks he discovered in his relationship with Geralt.

“I do. You need praise and attention. You simply bloom with it,” Geralt spoke, continuing his movements down until he was just a breathe away from the waistband of his husband’s sleep pants. 

“Mmmm, yes,” Jaskier willed his body to relax but he wanted to arch his body into Geralt.

“Being so good,” he hooked his fingers in the pants and began to pull them down, inching them over his hip bones, fabric dragging down his legs until the clothing was deposited at the end of the bed. Jaskier blushed violently once he realized how exposed he was.

“There you are,” Geralt observed the younger man’s brief vulnerability, “Always perfect for me.”

“Oh,” Jaskier gasped. He had little experience, in his memory, to being this open and on display.

“You’ll remember eventually how much you like being like this and being seen. You see, I desire you so strongly that you eventually just show yourself off, knowing that I would drop whatever I was doing,” he hovered above Jaskier’s erection, he gave it a quik lick before bypassing it entirely to put his hands between the man’s thighs, pushing them wide open to see him better. He licked at the juncture of his hip and thigh before kissing further inward. His lips were soft and insistent. 

Jaskier continued to gasp and fist his hands in the sheets. This level of attention was new to him. Geralt smiled against his skin and let his tongue trace invisible patterns on the man’s inner thighs. He put Jaskier’s knees over his shoulders and made his way towards Jaskier’s hole, using his thumbs to spread his cheeks.

“Shit,” Jaskier hissed as he felt Geralt blow across it.

“Tell me to stop if you’re too overwhelmed,” Geralt whispered as he blew again before gently licking. Jaskier’s eyes shot wide open and he held his breath. It was so much; more than he had memory for. But his body responded as if this was a regular occurrence. His body sang, but his head was racing. He felt the tongue swirl and prod gently, blunt fingers holding him open. He tried to picture what they must look like at this moment. Thoughts piled and swirled. He began to breathe rapidly as he felt Gerlat’s lips against his flesh. He could feel his face heat up and he thought the room was spinning. He felt like he could not take a breath. As soon as things began they stopped. 

“Jaskier?” Geralt was above him now, gently cradling his face. 

“I - I’m sorry,” Jaskier mumbled. He realized now that anxiety took over despite his comfort.

“No need to apologize, lark,” Geralt kissed his forehead, “I should not have been so selfish. This was too much too soon.”

“I want it,” Jaskier managed, he clung to Geralt’s shoulders.

“I’m sure you do,” Geralt snickered, “But the psychological weight of things might be overriding the slut in you.

“Blasphemy,” Jaskier smiled.

“Maybe, but it’s ok to take things slow,” Geralt soothed. Jaskier blinked up at him and smiled slowly. He had a good man who loved him. “Let’s rest. I’ll hold you and you can tell me a story I’ve probably heard before.” 

“Will you pretend like it’s new?” Jaskier chuckled.

“I always do,” Geralt rolled them and maneuvered until he was holding Jaskier to his chest. 

They talked for an hour until Jaskier fell back asleep, Geralt breathing into the back of his neck. In the morning they kissed slowly and Ciri made them breakfast. They spent the next day watching movies and relaxing in the living room. Things continued like this for several weeks, Geralt having taken time off work, letting Yennifer run things without him. Eskel and Lambert visited from time to time. It wasn’t until the 4th week when Jaskier began to recall bits of who they were together. He was putting on lotion and remembered the first time Geralt gave it to him, spreading it lightly on his shoulders after a bath. As soon as the memory rang clear as crystal he ran to Geralt and told them man to fuck him on the bathroom counter so he could watch them in the mirror. And they did, with vigor. They had not tried since Jaskier's initial anxiety attack, Geralt too afraid to push him too far, much to Jaskier's chagrin. 

Memories would continue to come in waves until it was like the accident was nothing more than a bad dream. When the neurologist cleared them Geralt flew them to a small town in Sweden where they stayed in a luxury cabin where Geralt could hike with Eskel as Jaskier played in the snow with Ciri. There were some memories he would have rather he never recalled, but it was worth it for everything else. 


End file.
